


three sentences of us

by fantastiken



Category: VIXX
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:17:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastiken/pseuds/fantastiken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which i post my fills for the second round of <a href="http://alesserrain.livejournal.com/1820.html">vixx three sentence ficathon</a> (´ ᴗ｀✿)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. burn out in the night sky

**Author's Note:**

> ~ prompt: hyuk/hongbin, partners in crime

Sanghyuk wasn’t even trying to hide his laughter. His hair, half pink and half blue, bounced off his forehead with every guffaw as he held his belly in an attempt to not double over and faceplant on the concrete. 

The street was empty, darkness and humidity having chased people away to the safety of their homes hours ago. The street lamps flickered above them, as if they were afraid of their very presence. 

A few steps behind Sanghyuk, Hongbin chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that seemed to shake the cars around them. He adjusted his brand new gloves carefully, never one to enjoy the oily feeling on his hands when they played with gasoline. He wasn’t like Sanghyuk. 

When Sanghyuk turned his head, still laughing, Hongbin’s smile grew bigger. It was maniac, eyes wide and face paint cracked already, but he didn’t mind one bit. Chaos was his thing, after all. 

A loud explosion shook the night then. Both Hongbin and Sanghyuk turned back and stared at the great fire that had engulfed half of the dock already. Sanghyuk’s laughter became louder than the roaring flames, though, and that made Hongbin’s heart skip a beat, proud of the masterpiece they had just created.


	2. love me tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: n/hyuk, love me tomorrow
> 
> ~ warning: character death (kind of)

“It’ll be ok, don’t worry.” Sanghyuk’s voice was tiny, barely a whisper. 

Dusk was slowly coloring the horizon with hues of dark blue and deep purple. The world was ready to fall into darkness. Sanghyuk was, too. Hakyeon was not. 

“How are you so sure?” His heart shook, terrified, as his hand clutched Sanghyuk’s to his chest in despair. The floor was unforgiving under his knees, but he didn’t care about the bruises that might bloom on his skin after too many hours of having them sunk on the cold tiles. 

Sanghyuk sounded even more feeble when he spoke again. “I just know. Have faith, Hakyeon.” 

His face was pale, a cerulean kind of pallor that only meant the elixir was eventually freezing his veins up and he was dying. Sanghyuk was dying and Hakyeon was probably more afraid than him. He felt himself tear up at the seams already, almost unable to keep himself together. 

“I’ve never been a man of faith, Sanghyuk,” he said as he wiped one of the tears that had started rolling down his cheeks. A little tug on one of the corners of Sanghyuk’s mouth at his attempt to take pressure of the situation made him smile a little in return as well. 

“Just believe in me, then.” 

And suddenly, things were very serious again. Sanghyuk looked at him intently, dark eyes going even darker and more glassy as seconds ticked by. 

“I do,” Hakyeon whimpered. The sky was almost completely blue already. “I believe in you.” 

“Good.” 

That was the last thing Sanghyuk said before he exhaled one last time and closed his eyes. A strong breeze ruffled the curtains and the thin linen sheet that covered Sanghyuk’s now lifeless body, and Hakyeon knew it was over even before he felt the heart-wrenching sobs tearing his chest in half. 

Sanghyuk was dead, and Hakyeon just hoped he would keep his promise and he would wake up again at dawn.


	3. snap a picture (snap me in half)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: hongbin/any, photography au
> 
> ~ warning: character death

> If you want to know what someone’s afraid to lose, look at what they photograph.

_Click._

Taking pictures had been Hongbin’s hobby ever since he could remember. He started with his mom’s old phone, too young and weak-handed to handle anything else, really. Hongbin took pictures of mundane, unimportant things back then. The coffee table, the TV when he was watching his favorite cartoons, the messy rack of shoes by the door, the inside of their refrigerator. Pictures of pictures. 

_Click._

As he grew up, his pictures started portraying more interesting things. Still inane stuff, but less blurry stuff at least. The poster of the spring festival— it was such a pretty artwork, he defended—, a bat flying across the cone of light of a street lamp during his summer vacation at his grandma’s. He took photos of dogs and cats and flowers and CD covers and also what he thought was a candid picture of his mom but turned out to be a smudge of indistinguishable colors because he slipped while taking it. Hongbin was still innocent back then. 

_Click._

At age seventeen, Hongbin got himself a proper camera. It wasn’t a good one, not really, but it was the best he could afford after a year of not spending any of his allowance. It was also at age seventeen when his pictures started having a name. Wonsik. 

Wonsik was the main focus of pretty much every single one of them. Being it his timid smile, his slightly bunny-like teeth, his messy hair in the morning or the marks on his cheeks when he fell asleep on top of his arms, there wasn’t a thing Hongbin didn’t capture of him. Those pictures progressively turned into clear shots of the slope of Wonsik’s back, covered in sweat under his worn out t-shirts in early summer, his first tattoo when he turned eighteen, his big hands holding Hongbin’s own. His wide, round eyes when Hongbin slid a flower in his hair. 

Wonsik, Wonsik, Wonsik. 

_Click._

Hongbin never took a picture of Wonsik’s grave. He remembered it clearly enough on his own. 

_Click._

Dusk and dawn blurred together and became a mass of pastel-colored photos with time. Hongbin’s hands were still shaky, soul unsteady, and so the pictures came out unfocused. 

He was back to square one, but more afraid than ever. 

_Click._

The day Hongbin went missing he was nineteen, and his camera roll was filled with pictures of himself.


	4. switch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: ken/hongbin, can hyung be as good-looking as you are
> 
> ~ warning: alcohol, body swap

When Jaehwan slurred the words a few beers into the night, he never expected the outcome he would get the next morning. He never expected any outcome at all, in all honesty. Sometimes, fate was a funny thing, though. 

Jaehwan had always admired Hongbin in more ways than one, both literally and figuratively speaking. He’d always liked the way Hongbin's fingers would curl nervously around the hem of his sweaters when he felt anxious, and how quietly passionate he was about the things he liked. Hongbin's dimples were a favorite of his as well. Oftentimes, Jaehwan had to resist the urge to poke them— or even worse, _kiss them_ — whenever Hongbin smiled. 

It was no secret that Hongbin was handsome, attractive, good-looking and every other flattering adjective in the dictionary. It was also no secret that Jaehwan adored that part of Hongbin too, although perhaps Hongbin himself hadn't noticed. Maybe. ~~Hopefully~~. It was more than probable that 99.9% of the time Jaehwan just wanted to stare lovingly at Hongbin and his dimples like he usually did while he hoped he wouldn't look like a lovestruck idiot. 

The remaining 0.1% surfaced that night when Jaehwan seemed to suddenly realize that he also wanted to _be_ Hongbin for a split second. It was an innocent wish but it was still there, even though it had never existed before. 

“It must be nice to be you, Hongbinnie. Can hyung be as good-looking as you are, too?” 

He didn't regret the words as they left his lips. Everything was fine right after, nothing seemed out of place. Hongbin didn't look at him weirdly nor pushed him away and just chuckled, amused, and pulled Jaehwan closer by the shoulders. The motion might have made them spill a little bit of beer all over themselves, but it was too late in the night and they were having too much fun to care about their clothes, the floor or anything in general. 

Like we said before, though, Jaehwan hadn't expected the outcome of his words. He'd expected a sort of deadly hangover, maybe a sore back or a stiff neck after sleeping in an uncomfortable position. A couple of badly placed bruises if he'd been clumsy enough before finding his bed, perhaps. 

He had never, ever, _ever_ expected to wake up and... not be himself. 

Jaehwan hadn't noticed it at first, too sluggish to be completely aware of his surroundings. It didn't help that someone was yanking his shoulders rather vigorously first thing in the morning and that that person was... Jaehwan himself. 

Wait, _what?_

It was then when he really woke up, albeit still dizzy and confused as hell. Through the fog in his head, Jaehwan didn't pay attention to... his? voice?? yelling incoherencies at him and just followed the gut feeling that demanded he should find a mirror as soon as possible. Jaehwan got to the bathroom with wobbly legs, fingertips numb from how tight he was clenching his fists, and stood right in front of the mirror feeling like his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper. 

And there, in the shining surface, was reflected none other than Hongbin's handsome (and slightly hungover) face instead of his own. 

To his credit, Jaehwan didn't faint right then and there, but he did put Hongbin's voice to the test when he opened his mouth and promptly screamed like a banshee. 

Oh well, it was going to be such an interesting day.


	5. what color is your death?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: sanghyuk, “just give me an answer - am i real?”
> 
> ~ warning: slight gore, (psycho-pass au!!!)

Many questions floated in the air unsaid, like an invisible and more disturbing version of the smoke wafting out of the Caterpillar’s mouth in _Alice in Wonderland._

Was it hot in the room? Was it cold? What time was it? 

Everything was aseptically white, that was for sure. It was actually the only thing Sanghyuk knew for certain. Although he wasn’t sure he could tell what the word white meant or what white looked like anymore. 

He’d been there for hours— days? months? a lifetime, maybe?— listening to the clipped robotic voice, and his heartbeat had become so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. Those were running a mile a second in his head, screaming pieces of reality, wild bursts of truths he wanted to forget, facts he’d never wanted to know and shook his very core in a way he would have never expected. 

His job was hard, not easy on the eyes, and it certainly wasn’t for everyone. Sanghyuk thought he’d seen pretty much everything there was to see. He thought he’d heard every atrocious thing there was to hear in the world. Sanghyuk thought there was nothing that could affect him or shock him anymore, not after seeing too many people going berserk and falling prey to the unyielding hold of Dominators in a bloody mess of guts and desperate pleas for mercy. 

Sanghyuk thought he’d seen everything— but oh boy, was he wrong. 

The question slipped out of his lips before he even registered he wanted to ask it. Of all the things he could say, truths he could demand, explanations he could yell for, Sanghyuk only managed a few strangled words. 

“Am I real?” 

And he was scared, oh so scared. There was nothing he could do to take his words back, nothing he could do to not have his question answered now that it was out in the air, and the fear was so cold under his burning skin that he started shivering uncontrollably. Sanghyuk was terrified, but he couldn't avoid this situation like he couldn't avoid being a little hopeful despite everything. Because deep inside, he just begged over and over that whatever Sibyl’s answer was wouldn’t tear him apart.


	6. a bet's a bet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: hakyeon/anyone, "kiss me while everyone’s looking"
> 
> ~ warning: language, there is actually no kissing here orz

If Hakyeon had known better, he would have never bet against Jaehwan. If Hakyeon had known better, he would have remembered how damn unlucky he was before he said anything. If Hakyeon had known better, he would have never even opened his mouth to begin with. But as it is, Hakyeon is a little bit of a bigmouth and he can’t keep his lips shut to save his life. Or his dignity, for that matter. 

That’s how Hakyeon found himself in a dire situation, with five pairs of eyes staring intently ~~into his soul~~ at him and an impending feel of doom crawling up his back like a gigantic spider. 

Doom, also read as _I fucked up and now Jaehwan is going to get back at me._

Jaehwan smirked at Hakyeon, a little too mischievous maybe, and walked up to where he was standing looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“You lost,” he drawled, eyebrows arched. 

“I lost,” Hakyeon deadpanned. 

“You lost,” Jaehwan repeated rather matter-of-factly. “But this time I’ll be lenient.” 

Hakyeon felt a sliver of hope course through his veins that he tried ~~and failed~~ to conceal when he replied. “You will?” 

“Yeah.” Jaehwan smiled, a calming gesture that made Hakyeon relax unconsciously. “You’ll just have to kiss me while everyone’s looking and we’ll be even.” 

Oh well, Hakyeon thought, he was willing to bet against Jaehwan and lose— maybe on purpose— a million times if he got to taste such a sweet punishment.


	7. dead, alive, dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: anyone (leo/hongbin); “it’s my fault. it’s my fault you’re alive.”
> 
> ~ warning: mentions of character death, (inuyasha au)

The sharp tip of the arrow was surprisingly warm, tepid instead of steel cold against his feverish skin. Almost as if his very core was welcoming— beckoning— it into his body. 

At the other end of the bow, holding the arrow with a steady hand, Hongbin stared at him for long, tense seconds before speaking up. His voice didn’t sound natural— not completely human, at least. It didn’t sound alive. It was incredibly harsh on Taekwoon’s ears, cold and cutting and otherworldly. 

“What are we doing here, Taekwoon.” 

It wasn’t even a question, but the words were so demanding and held so much power within them that Taekwoon shivered violently. The tip of the arrow scratched his throat. He wasn’t afraid of Hongbin, wasn’t scared of the death that the bow and arrow promised him seductively. 

The whole forest, full of ancient trees, was utterly silent. The aura around them was still, paralyzed in some kind of magic trance that Taekwoon wasn’t sure was Hongbin’s doing or his own imagination going haywire. Perhaps a little bit of both. 

Answering the priest wasn’t easy, though. The events were easy enough to explain, but Taekwoon didn’t think he had it in him to voice out the truth. He knew what his words would cause, how hatred and rage would bloom in Hongbin’s pale face, how he’d press the tip of the arrow to Taekwoon and be at the very verge of shooting it right through his heart once again, like he did a hundred years before. Taekwoon also knew that Hongbin would stop before he let himself go and would not kill him because Hongbin was level-headed and fair and would ask for an explanation first. He’d ask for the explanation that he didn’t seek for a hundred years before and that ended with both of them dead and feeling betrayed. 

Taekwoon knew Hongbin wouldn’t kill him no matter how much he asked, no matter how much his half-demon soul begged for it, because Hongbin was compassionate even towards sad, miserable beings like Taekwoon. And that only made him more miserable. 

The priest looked at Taekwoon with dark, dead eyes before repeating himself, words slow and thick like syrup. 

“What are we doing here, Taekwoon? Why are we in the world of the living? Why haven’t I reached the sacred place?” 

_What have you done_ was left unsaid, but the half demon could feel it in the press of his back against the rough trunk of the tree he was being held against. Just like a hundred years before. 

“It’s my fault,” he choked out, eventually. “It’s my fault that you’re alive, Hongbin. I’m sorry.” 

There were tears welling in his eyes then, he could tell when Hongbin’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. Taekwoon hated himself for that because he didn’t deserve Hongbin’s softness, his pity, his favor, his mercy, his more than probable forgiveness. He was the reason Hongbin died a hundred years before and he was also the reason Hongbin had been accidentally brought back to life now. 

“Who brought me back from the other world?” 

Hongbin’s voice was calmer, barely a whisper hidden in the rustle of clothes in the summer breeze. 

“There’s a... demon,” Taekwoon replied, tongue on fire and heart drowned in poison. “The Shikon Jewel was destroyed when you died and they want to piece it together. They need you to do it.” 

There was a long pause then. It felt sort of ironic how the world kept on spinning around when two lives who shouldn’t even _be_ were on stand-by, almost in a completely different plane. 

And to Taekwoon’s utmost surprise, Hongbin sighed tiredly and stepped back a little, effectively lowering the bow along with the death sentence it held against Taekwoon. When he spoke, his eyes had left Taekwoon’s, but his voice didn't waver. 

“You’re going to help me look for this demon,” he said. “And when we get rid of them, I will kill you.” 

The wind blew, smelling heavily of the magic and incense of a promise that could not and would not be broken. Not again. And Taekwoon agreed to that with a resigned smile because after all, they both belonged with the dead.


	8. lost in translation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: hongbin/hyuk, introvert college librarian and extrovert college student
> 
> ~ warnings: language(?), slight mention of sexual themes

When Hongbin woke up that morning, he felt it wouldn’t be an ordinary day. Maybe the way his bangs refused to surrender to his comb, or the disastrous mess he made when he spilled coffee all over his pants on his way to the subway station were enough indication. Maybe it was because he missed his transfer bus, or because he was late to his first class, or possibly because he forgot his assignments at home. 

Anyhow, Hongbin had been feeling on edge since very early in the morning. He couldn’t wait for his classes to be over so he could head over to his little cozy desk at the university library and forget about his problems for five hours full of putting books aside, organizing information cards and helping lost students find what they were looking for. Hongbin had to admit that the system the library used to classify its contents was pretty awful. 

He regretted wanting to get to his shift at the library as soon as the clock ticked past seven. The place was peacefully quiet, so the door creaked loudly when a new student stepped into the library, squeaky sneakers and all. 

“Hi,” he said as soon as he stepped in front of Hongbin’s desk. A friendly smile tipped up the corners of his lips slightly. 

Hongbin didn’t know what was coming for him when he replied, adjusting his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Hello, how can I help you?” 

“Hi,” the boy repeated with a little wave of his hand. The smile widened on his lips. “I need to fish out a book.” 

“Sure thing.” Hongbin nodded repeatedly. “I need your student ID first to check if everything’s in order.” 

The boy nodded back, sliding his ID across the desk for Hongbin to inspect. 

“Alright,” Hongbin said, typing up the boy’s— Sanghyuk— name on his computer. “Sanghyuk, you’re good. So tell me, what do you need?” 

Sanghyuk bounced on the tips of his toes before blurting out a very unceremonious, “I need help finding erotica in English.” 

Hongbin blanked out at that. 

“Pardon me?” 

Sanghyuk was quick to lean one arm on the desk and wave his hands as he explained himself. “Yes, I would like if you could–” 

“Excuse me.” Hongbin interrupted him mid-sentence. He felt a strong wave of embarrassment and rage rise red on his cheeks. He thought he’d had enough disastrous experiences in a day, but no, it seemed like he had to deal with a jokester too. “Do you think I’m here to be made fun of?” 

He stood up and put the palms of his hands on the desk as well, a deep frown ~~and a pout he didn’t notice~~ pushing him forward until the tip of his nose almost touched Sanghyuk’s chin. 

“Don’t think you’re the first dude to come here and ask for that sort of books so they can giggle in every corner of the library and disturb everyone else. Or worse, do unspeakable things to t–” 

Sanghyuk cleared his throat, brows up and lost in his long bangs. He didn’t look particularly bothered by Hongbin’s— whispered— outburst, which only made Hongbin shake in his shoes. He was not having the kid disrespect him or make fun of him or the library or– 

Before he could say anything else, Sanghyuk presented Hongbin his student ID once again, this time right in front of his specs. Hongbin went a little cross-eyed. 

“If you’d looked a little more thoroughly at this, you would have noticed I’m an English translation major,” he said, collected and still smiling friendly. “I need the book for my thesis, not to masturbate to badly written porn in the lib–” 

“Sshhh.” Hongbin’s hands shot up fast and covered Sanghyuk’s mouth. He felt shame crawl up his chest, and he knew he was blushing so brightly he felt kind of faint. “Oh my god, shush. Don’t say such things out loud, oh my god.” 

Sanghyuk then grabbed Hongbin’s fingers softly and pried them away, smile a little mischievous. 

“Sorry, sorry, library boy,” he apologized. “I have way better things to think about when I touch myself anyways, it’s not like I would–” 

Hongbin was once again blocking whatever Sanghyuk was trying to say. “Shut up, Sanghyuk, oh my god, shut up.” 

After a few seconds of silence only interrupted by Hongbin’s heavy breathing, Sanghyuk raised his hands in surrender. Begrudgingly, Hongbin let go of him. 

“I’m... sorry,” he breathed eventually, head bowed low and cheeks ruddy. “I’m really sorry, Sanghyuk.” 

The boy shook his head. “Don’t worry, I get why you’ve reacted the way you have.” 

Hongbin, in his great despair, kind of wanted to die. A little. He felt so embarrassed he’d been so careless and put Sanghyuk (and himself) in such an uncomfortable position... He’d had a tough day but that certainly wasn’t an excuse to jump and snap at him that way without giving him a chance to explain himself. Hongbin had been really inconsiderate and for that he wanted to find a hole on the ground and crawl into it. 

“It’s okay, really,” Sanghyuk said. “Don’t worry.” 

“I really am sorry, though.” Hongbin felt he wouldn’t have enough time in his life to apologize. “Let me make it up to you.” 

“You don’t have to.” 

“I want to.” Hongbin finally looked at Sanghyuk in the eye and wow, his embarrassment climbed up 73 levels at least. The boy was ridiculously attractive. 

Sanghyuk sighed and smiled, amused. “How do you plan on doing it then?” 

The librarian didn’t seem to realize that he was still inches apart from Sanghyuk’s face. Clueless could define him right at that moment. 

“I... don’t know? I’m sorry.” 

“Stop saying sorry, please, it’s not a big deal.” 

“But want to apologize and I don’t–” 

Sanghyuk raised his hand to stop Hongbin in his tracks before he blabbered too much and fainted. “Alright, let’s do this. I’ll be happy if you help me find the books I need.” 

“That isn’t–” 

“And,” he frowned a little at Hongbin, who looked at him sheepishly. “And if we grab a coffee after you’re done with work today. Does that seem reasonable for you?” 

Hongbin panicked a little inside but nodded repeatedly. His fringe bounced off his forehead slightly, and Sanghyuk chuckled. Hongbin was sure he couldn’t get any more flustered. 

“Lead the way, then,” Sanghyuk pointed at the endless rows of bookshelves before using deft fingers to push Hongbin’s specks up the bridge of his nose. 

“Sure, of course,” he said as he jumped to his feet and started walking to the back of the library. 

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he’d heard Sanghyuk’s voice over the annoying squeak of his sneakers saying something that sounded a lot like _aah, you’re cute._ So he couldn’t help himself and turned around for a second, beet red, and stared at Sanghyuk accusingly before pleading, “Please, stop talking before I die from a heart attack.” 

And Sanghyuk nodded as he rose his hand to zip his lips. Before he did, though, he couldn’t help himself and asked one last thing. “So, how do you like your coffee, library boy?” 

Hongbin almost pushed his fist into his mouth to keep himself from screaming but he didn’t. Sanghyuk had already zipped his lips and smiled triumphantly next to him.


	9. bunny trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: leo/lay, fantasy au

The smell of sulfur was cloying in the air. Everything was quiet except for the faint sound of bubbles swirling in a cauldron and the rustling of a robe, barely noticeable in the calculated silence. 

Taekwoon felt pinpricks on his back, the palms of his hands and the roof of his mouth at the darkness that welcomed him when he stepped into the practice room hallway. The further he went into the stone, cave-like place that lead to the equally stone rooms, the scent of magic became more powerful and made his heart rate skyrocket. 

Then, a tiny explosion, _poof,_ and a yelp. 

In an instant, Taekwoon was running in the dark, opening the wooden door to the farthest room on the right side of the hallway and gasping when he saw that Yixing was in there with a new pair of bunny ears crowning his head. 

Yixing had long, white bunny ears. _What._

“What the hell happened here?” Taekwoon glanced at the lit candles, the spell written in chalk on the wall, the cauldron, the book still open on Yixing’s lap, Yixing. 

“I... don’t know?” Yixing seemed more confused than bothered by the situation, honestly. But, to be fair, Yixing always looked like he was very confused. 

“What were you doing?” A few seconds later, Taekwoon walked in and crouched down next to him on the floor. “Did you try to summon a forest fairy again to learn how to–” 

Yixing moved his hands, chuckling at the memory of the half-burned school because he’d summoned the _wrong_ forest fairy once. That had been a fun thing to explain to the headmistress. 

“I was trying to heal a wounded bunny I found on my way here,” he explained, and his eyes went wide all of a sudden. “But now there is no bunny.” 

Glancing around in hopes for Yixing to be wrong, Taekwoon eventually attested that effectively, what resembled a bunny the most in the room at the moment was Yixing himself. Yixing’s bunny ears dropped. 

“Which spell did you use?” The explosion had erased part of the chalk off the wall, so Taekwoon couldn’t see what was written clearly. 

“It was an easy one, I promise.” 

When Yixing nodded, looking frantically through the pages of the old spellbook, the ears flopped at his sides. Taekwoon felt weak at the knees, and silently thanked Merlin for being kneeled on the floor already for he’d have fallen down otherwise. 

It was not the first time Yixing misread a spell— quick throwback to the forest fairy incident again. That had been such a mess—, so Taekwoon wasn’t even surprised that Yixing had bunny ears to match his bunny-like personality. He just hoped that whatever Yixing had done could be reverted. 

“How are you going to get rid of these?” Taekwoon pointed at the ears. 

Yixing pouted, seemingly deep in thought. “I kind of like them, they’re soft.” 

And right then, Taekwoon had to see with his very own eyes how Yixing grabbed his long ears and caressed them tenderly. 

“They’re so fluffy,” he whispered. 

_Oh my god,_ Taekwoon thought. 

“Yixing,” he started, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, feeling at the very verge of collapsing. “You cannot keep the ears. They belong to the bunny, you have to give them back.” 

At that, Yixing bit his lip, concern for the poor animal blooming in his face by the second. His expression became a full-on guilt mask when Taekwoon spoke again. 

“You have to bring the bunny back from the dimension you’ve accidentally sent it to, Xing, before it’s too late and it gets lost. You know how dark it is in there.” 

Tears welled up in Yixing’s dark eyes, but a glint of determination made them shine more than the watery gleam that coated them. With a leap that was very similar to that of an actual rabbit, Yixing jumped to his feet and gathered the book, blew the candles and turned to Taekwoon with a hopeful, nervous smile. 

Taekwoon scoffed a little, and one of the bunny ears perked up slightly; Taekwoon felt his heart skip a beat. 

“Would you go with me to the headmistress’ office?” he asked, almost sheepishly. 

When they exited the practice room, steps slow but firm and heart drumming happily in his chest, Taekwoon knew he had already lost a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting— and he was a hundred percent okay with that.


	10. of coffee drops and the light in your dead eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: leo/any, our flats are opposite each other and your kitchen window faces my kitchen so we always see each other making coffee at 3am
> 
> ~warnings: SPOILER ALERT!!!!! heavy implications of suicide, paranormal stuff?

Taekwoon had always enjoyed his 3am cup of coffee. It tasted different than any other he would have during the day. After years, he was so used to walking into the kitchen at night and following the whole process of making the coffee that he never turned the lights on. 

Every day, on the flat opposite his, a light flickered and a kitchen similar to the one Taekwoon was standing in would come into view. Taekwoon always held a steaming mug of coffee between his hands by the time the fluorescent lights stopped ticking on, off, on, off. Always, rummaging through drawers and jars was a young man, hair unnaturally silver and purplish dark circles under his dull eyes. He didn’t make a sound, quiet as a mouse, except for the little stirring noise when he turned on the coffee machine on the counter. 

Taekwoon was sure his neighbor drank his coffee way sweeter than he himself did, if the scent wafting through the rather narrow space between their flats was anything to go by. That made him smile a little in the darkness. 

His neighbor hadn’t noticed him the first times they had happened to be up at the same time on their secret caffeine trips at 3am. It took him a while since he was probably too sleepy to notice that he was even awake, but when he did, he waved a little in imitation to Taekwoon’s gentle gesture. 

They never talked, not too fond of waking the whole building up with their chatter so late at night, but they did acknowledge each other’s presence every day. Taekwoon wished to meet him though, talk to him for real sometime, maybe share stories over well, coffee, and find out what was keeping him awake at night. 

That’s what he told Hongbin in the morning one day. Taekwoon hadn’t realized he’d stayed awake the whole night, but strangely enough, he wasn’t feeling tired. He left his mug on the counter and turned to face Hongbin, who had dragged his feet into the kitchen as if there was nothing else in the world he dreaded more than being awake. 

“I saw the neighbor again last night,” Taekwoon said, voice light. 

Hongbin walked past him and grabbed the mug Taekwoon had just left. He filled it up with freshly brewed coffee. Taekwoon adored the scent. 

“I’d like to meet him in person sometime, he seems like a nice guy,” he added, crossing his arms over the warm cardigan his chest was covered with. 

Hongbin never gave an answer to that and just flopped down on a chair before burying his face in the palms of his hands. Fresh tears didn’t take too long to show up and roll down his cheeks, agonizing sobs echoing in the silence. 

///// 

Wonsik was so exhausted he was at the verge of tears. He wanted to fall asleep and rest until his body and soul healed more than anything in the world. Wonsik had open wounds, invisible but still bleeding profusely and, if he were honest with himself, he’d have accepted long ago that they would never heal. He’d rather lie to himself, though. 

He was broken, somehow he’d always been. Wonsik learned it at a very young age, when his grandmother passed away and he saw things he was not supposed to see. He’d thought back then that it would all go away and he could go back to being a normal person, but more than a decade had passed since then and he was still as broken, if not more, than he was when he was seven years old. 

Wonsik had always carried a secret he could tell no one, a heavy burden that only sweet coffee at 3am helped lessen a little— sometimes. 

It was 3am once again, a night among other endless nights, and Wonsik was sitting by the kitchen counter on a stool looking out the window. He didn’t know how long he’d been there. 

“Hey,” Jaehwan’s voice behind him didn’t startle Wonsik, so he didn’t take his eyes away from the dark window at the other end of the building. “What are you doing awake so late? Nightmares again?” 

Jaehwan walked with socked feet until he could reach Wonsik with his careful hands and envelope him in a warm embrace. 

“Yeah,” Wonsik answered, voice rough and cracked at the edges. 

“Poor thing.” 

Jaehwan pouted sleepily and kissed the top of Wonsik’s head. Afterwards, he maneuvered himself until he was standing behind Wonsik, arms wrapped around his shoulders and chin nestled on top of his head. His eyes looked right where Wonsik’s were trained, but Jaehwan was a little more blind than him so he didn’t really _see_. 

“I feel so sorry for Hongbin,” he sighed after a long silence, letting his weight rest a bit more on Wonsik’s back. “The fact that he had to find Taekwoon’s body after he... after...” 

His words were a little choked and he couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to; Wonsik knew exactly what he was talking about. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He patted Jaehwan’s arm comfortingly, even though both of them knew that nothing was okay. 

“It just crushes my heart seeing him break down in tears every morning when he walks into that kitchen.” 

“I know, love.” 

Wonsik took one of Jaehwan’s hands and kissed it, cupped it to his cheek as he waited for Jaehwan to calm down a little. His heart was beating wildly against Wonsik’s back, and Wonsik couldn’t really blame him. His would be too, if he were normal. If he didn’t see things he wasn’t supposed to see. 

“Let’s go to bed, please,” Jaehwan begged a few minutes later, words still slightly drowned in emotions. 

Wonsik understood his fear, the gut-wrenching terror that he would wake up to a similar scene to the one Hongbin had woken up to a few months before. Wonsik didn’t think it would happen, but it seemed too selfish to tell Jaehwan that. 

So he just stood up from his stool and followed Jaehwan’s steps out of the kitchen slowly. Before he exited the window frame completely, though, he waved back when Taekwoon waved at him from the other side.


	11. i see things ahead (they will kill me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~prompt: any pairing, zombies come and go, but finding a partner who doesn’t stab you in the back is the real challenge (aka zombie apocalypse au)
> 
> ~ warnings: gory descriptions, some violence and general death

No one ever got used to the putrid stench of decomposing guts and flesh. 

No one ever got used to the sound of dead feet dragging along the pavement, wooden floors, dirty paths in the forest. 

No one ever got used to the squelching and tearing, the desperate and unintelligible groans and gasps that accompanied the largest hordes. 

No one ever got used to the coldness of the blood when a well-aimed knife pierced a dead brain, but much less to the warmth of it if whoever was stabbed into eternal silence had recently turned. 

No one ever got used to the feeling of loneliness, of vastness, of not belonging anymore. 

No one ever got used to that, and Sanghyuk was no different. 

Sanghyuk never got used to those things but he was strong. He was a survivor. He had kept himself alive for a couple of years and spent most of them by himself. Cold nights, sweltering hot days, rain, tornadoes, nothing fazed him anymore; he was stronger than the extreme weather. Time had taught him to harden his skin and cover his bones in a thick layer of watchfulness and distrust. 

At some point between knifes too close to his throat and heavy threats pending over his head, Sanghyuk had started fearing the living more than the dead, and he’d learned to be as alright with it as he could ever be. 

That changed one day, suddenly. He woke up abruptly, and it wasn’t due to the heavy rainstorm that crashed through the broken window and rattled everything. Sanghyuk jumped to his feet, quickly alert, heart pounding in his chest. A shrill scream, pretty similar to the one that had woken him up, pierced the air. 

When Sanghyuk peered out of the hut where he had been sleeping, he saw a young man swinging a very long, very rusty machete at four zombies that were cornering him by the second. He was managing pretty well on his own, Sanghyuk had to admit, but a twist of fate— or plain clumsiness— sent the guy toppling down to the ground and to what seemed to be his early demise. And it was then when Sanghyuk leaped out the door and started swinging his sword at the zombies before they got to the boy. 

He didn’t know what pushed him to pounce on the zombies to defend a stranger while yelling at the top of his lungs. He just knew that when he came to, he was bathed in blood and guts and he could barely open his eyes. The rain was so damn heavy; he scowled. 

The guy, still sprawled on the floor next to a new collection of butchered corpses, stared at him behind his wet fringe, messy and plastered to his forehead. His long nose looked almost comical, the only thing about him that wasn’t tiny and sickly-thin. 

“Why did you do that?” he asked, almost as if he couldn’t believe he wasn’t dead yet. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sanghyuk gazed at him intensely, silently wondering the exact same thing. 

“I could try to kill you now,” the boy reasoned. He was right. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

And Sanghyuk felt a tightness in his chest that told him that the guy was indeed right, but his own words rang truer in his ears. He had seen it in the other’s eyes— that spark he once had too, the paralyzing fear of being alone, of carrying on their shoulders the dull destiny of walking around in such a merciless word until a zombie was too fast or they were too slow. 

The stranger looked a little scared. “Would you?” 

Sanghyuk blinked several times. 

“Stab you now?” he said; the boy nodded. “Why would I? It’s hard enough finding a human that is still alive, I’m not going to gut you without giving you a chance.” 

Maybe he was being a little too trusting, too naive, Sanghyuk knew, but he was also so lonely. He’d end up with a knife to his chest or a bullet through his brain somewhere along the line anyway, so he figured it didn’t really matter whether the stranger was going to be the one ending his life or not. He was tired. 

The rain intensified, but Sanghyuk’s hold didn’t falter when he stretched out his hand and helped the guy get to his feet. 

“My name’s Sanghyuk.” 

The boy smiled, a curiously pretty sight despite him being covered in dark blood and mud. “Nice to meet you, Sanghyuk. I’m Jaehwan.”


	12. boy, you're like cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: ken/any, matchmaking services gone wrong

Jaehwan always thought his job was the best. He didn’t have to worry about long office hours keeping him caged in a minuscule cubicle. He didn’t have to dread Mondays and he certainly didn’t hate his coworkers. Hakyeon was a great boss, on top of that. 

All in all, Jaehwan had lots of fun at work. He usually got to interview their clients— _Welcome to GR8U, where we’ll help you find your happily ever after—_ and fill in their info cards, match them with potential partners and contact them if a soulmate had been found in their database. He also got to see his clients walk off his office with their soulmate and their promised happily ever after more often than not. 

Jaehwan liked that kind of happiness. 

He would have never expected that that easy, familiar feeling could quake dangerously because of a peculiar twist of fate. 

It was possible for a person to have more than one soulmate. They had had a few cases at GR8U in the years Jaehwan had worked for Hakyeon. It was uncommon, but not improbable. 

The funny thing is that Jaehwan would have never thought that the guy he had talked on the phone with a few days prior to their interview— voice deep and a bit stuttering, almost shy— and whom he’d found a perfect match would walk into his office and slap him in the face with the fact that he was Jaehwan’s soulmate as well. 

There was no doubt he was. His name was Wonsik; it echoed in Jaehwan’s head like a soft prayer. Everything about the boy, who looked as shocked and confused as Jaehwan himself, glowed as if bathed in a different light than the rest of mortals. Jaehwan felt his hands and feet pulsating with the wish to walk up to Wonsik, look at him up close, breathe in his scent and touch him. 

On instinct, Wonsik stepped further into the room; he didn’t seem to realize he’d done so, too engrossed in staring at Jaehwan with his mouth slightly open. Jaehwan stood up, fingers holding the edge of his desk. 

“Are you...” Wonsik asked, hesitant, and his deep voice sounded even deeper in person. Jaehwan shivered, drawing in a shuddering breath. 

“No– I... Yes?” Jaehwan answered, words caught in his throat. “I don’t know, this is very confusing.” 

“Tell me about that.” Wonsik chuckled nervously, a rumbling sound that shot straight up Jaehwan’s spine. “What is– What is going on?” 

Both of them stayed silent for a second, the atmosphere too heavy to even think straight. Eventually, Jaehwan licked his lips and carded his hand through his hair, an attempt at collecting himself. He needed to be rational. 

“I think...” he started, but had to clear his throat because Wonsik was _right there_ being perfect in his eyes and Jaehwan couldn’t concentrate. “Wonsik, I think you might have two soulmates.” 

Wonsik blanked a little, eyes opening wide and mouth slightly agape. He shook his head. “Is that even possible?” 

Jaehwan nodded. “It’s rare, but it has happened before.” 

Things could go terribly wrong. Jaehwan felt it in his bones and buzzing under his skin; he could feel how Wonsik was his perfect match, his bonded soul, but he could just walk away because he had another soulmate. He had all the right to do so, but what would be of Jaehwan then? It was a thing not knowing who his soulmate was and another completely different thing being left alone and without another chance. Wonsik could walk out and meet his other soulmate and be happy forever while Jaehwan was left with a broken bond and an emptiness he would never be able to fill. 

Jaehwan was afraid, confused, shaky, but he had to keep himself together. He could not lack professionalism, he couldn’t fail GR8U now. 

“What are you going to do?” he asked in a serious tone. His heart was pounding and there was sweat beading on his temples. His hands would be shaking uncontrollably if he weren’t holding the edge of his desk like his life depended on it. 

And honestly, Jaehwan was so scared that he would have never expected Wonsik to quirk an eyebrow and utter a shy, “Well, I could ask you out on a date.” 

Jaehwan would have never expected things to turn out alright, but they were at GR8U after all. Everyone got their happily ever after.


	13. pull my trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: chabean, pull my trigger
> 
> ~ warnings: graphic depictions of death, superpowers, time loop thingy going on (kind of à la _source code_ )

It took Hongbin a while to realize. 

Hakyeon had known from the very beginning, witness to the unfolding scene over and over and _over_ again. How many times had he lived the same five minutes of his life? He had lost count. 

Hongbin had died in every single one of them. 

It had taken Hakyeon by surprise the first time, the second time, the third time. The fourth time, he had tried to use his powers to stop it but it had been too late already. 

Hakyeon woke up in the same spot, several feet away from a still alive Hongbin, to the chaos that ended once again in his death and the destruction of their ship and all the things they were supposed to guard. 

On the parallel reality, Officer Jung would urge him. _Hakyeon, we have no time._

Time for what. 

It took Hakyeon more tries than he could count to find the source of the catastrophe, the place where he’d seen the space pirates get in the ship. He kept seeing Hongbin die. He was going insane. 

_We don’t have time._

And he knew it was futile, but that didn’t stop him from trying to save his partner. He got into the mind of the assailant who was holding Hongbin at gunpoint and paralyzed him. The ship was wrecking down around them and Hakyeon’s gaze was too telling. Hongbin gasped. 

“Stop it, Hakyeon,” he said. His voice shook, fear creeping up his face and blooming in his eyes. He had realized what was going on, what Hakyeon was— had been— doing. 

“I can’t.” 

“Of course you can,” Hongbin scowled. “Let him go.” 

“I’m not going to let him kill you _again,_ Hongbin.” 

A loud explosion from the central console rocked the whole ship violently. 

_Time’s running out._

“But you are.” 

Hakyeon swallowed down a wave of tears. “I ca–” 

“Hakyeon,” Hongbin commanded. “You’re going to let go of his mind. Let him pull the trigger so you can save the world.” 

Hakyeon could feel the strain in his brain already. Maintaining his hold was starting to be too much to bear, and all the pressure wasn’t helping his desperation. 

“Hongbin, please, don’t ask me to–” 

“Do it.” His voice was full of determination. There was nothing Hakyeon could do. “Let go, Hakyeon.” 

And so he did. Hakyeon let go and had to hear the deafening sound of the gun going off before seeing Hongbin’s brain splattered all over the railing and down the stairs. Once again. 

Hakyeon came to with a piercing scream. Officer Jung congratulated him solemnly, and offered his condolences for his loss. Hakyeon was deaf to his words though, blind to anything that wasn’t the horror he’d left behind and couldn’t fix anymore. 

He had saved the world. There were no more tries. No more chances for Hongbin. 

Hakyeon lay, boneless, numb, and wished someone would pull his trigger.


	14. good morning, sunshine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: vixx, ravi wakes up a girl
> 
> ~ warning: genderswap

It was hard not to notice that Wonsik wasn’t exactly Wonsik that morning. It was hard not to notice but they were all too sleepy— Wonsik himself included. 

Only when they sat down on the floor around the coffee table in the living room someone felt something was amiss. 

“Hyung.” Sanghyuk’s voice was low, almost growly with the last bits of sleep still clinging to it. “Why do you look so short today?” 

Wonsik still had a foot in Dreamland, leaning heavily on Jaehwan’s shoulder for support, but answered nonetheless. “I’m _not_ short.” 

The sudden high-pitched words rendered the whole flat silent. Not even the faint sounds of teaspoons stirring coffee in worn-out mugs, or the slow crunching sound of Hongbin munching on a cookie could be heard. Nothing. Everyone was petrified. 

“Hyung?” 

Sanghyuk was staring at Wonsik like he’d never seen him before. 

“Wonsik?” 

Scratch that. _Everyone_ was staring at Wonsik like they were seeing him for the first time. 

“What’s wrong?” And there was the high-pitched voice again. “Wait, _what’s wrong?_

Wonsik sat up straight abruptly before a hand flew up to his throat and his eyes opened like saucers, alarmed. It took only a second after that for a litany of words to fill the living room in confused, worried, scared, happy bursts that only left Wonsik hanging onto the feeling that he might be still sleeping. 

“What happened to you, Wonsik? Are you alright?” 

“Why is your hair so long?” 

“You’re minuscule, hyung.” 

“Are those boobs?” 

“Oh my god, a _girl._ ” 

And Wonsik was, indeed, a girl. Physically, at least. Inside he was still Wonsik, nothing had really changed. 

Once the initial panic died down a little— although it never really did for Taekwoon and Hakyeon— the others had their fair share of fun with Wonsik. It wasn’t malicious, but with Wonsik’s new body came a brand new layer of shyness that left him a tiny, blushing mess that had to deal with (mostly) three gigantic guys that were intent on teasing him for as long as he’d let them. The boys were delighted by it, so not even Wonsik’s attempts at pulling the cutesy act to weasel his way out of their grasp stopped them. 

Secretly, Wonsik loved all the attention he was getting despite the general weirdness of the situation. But that was something he would never admit. 

And well, things definitely became more interesting when, one by one, the rest of the group started waking up turned into girls.


	15. girls like girls, too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ prompt: any pairing, ‘girls like girls’ by hayley kiyoko
> 
> ~ warning: fem!jaehwan, fem!hongbin, vague description of sex

When Jaehwan met Hongbin, she had a boyfriend. That’s what Jaehwan heard Wonsik say after he’d introduced the two girls at their first summer party. The boyfriend’s name was... Taekwoon. Maybe. 

“He’s nice, always good to me,” Hongbin said over the rim of a bottle of beer at their fifth summer party. _Not who I need_ wasn’t uttered, and yet Jaehwan saw it in Hongbin’s eyes, clear like the sun reflecting on their half-full snifters. She could feel it in the slight tingle of excitement under her skin. 

Hongbin was a beautiful, beautiful contradiction. She was quiet but also so, so loud when she was with the right people, in the right environment. She was extremely polite and demure, and still her words would burn like the wound left by a scorpion’s stinger if pushed over her limits. She was tall, but looked so tiny on her feet that the need to protect her was almost primal— and that was something Hongbin didn’t need; protection. She was strong, independent, adventurous to her very bones. However, she also seemed dull and subdued from time to time. 

Hongbin was beautiful, and Jaehwan was head over heels for her in no time. 

Hongbin, let’s remember, had a boyfriend when she and Jaehwan met. That certainly didn’t stop Jaehwan from falling in love with her, however inappropriate that might have been. 

Neither did it stop Hongbin from doing the exact same thing, fortunately. 

Some said in hushed hurtful whispers that Jaehwan stole Hongbin from Taekwoon, but that wasn’t true. She whisked her away in a sense, perhaps, but Hongbin never belonged to anyone but herself, so Taekwoon was out of the equation pretty soon. 

And it was Jaehwan who kissed Hongbin on the lips, softly, at their tenth summer party. But it was Hongbin instead who carded her fingers through Jaehwan’s hair and pressed herself closer and breathed into Jaehwan’s mouth like she’d never need anything else and giggled and kissed Jaehwan again after a pretty blush colored her cheeks. 

It was Jaehwan who fell in love first, but Hongbin who bid Taekwoon goodbye with little to no remorse. Hongbin, sweet, sweet Hongbin was the one who held Jaehwan’s hand tightly as they left their twelfth summer party with flowy dresses, flowers in their hair and Wonsik’s cheerful whooping at their backs. 

On the eighteenth summer party— that they never attended to—, Jaehwan held Hongbin closer than ever and drank in her laugh, her little gasps, that mischievous but shy glint in her eyes, her bitten nails, the light shining off her long hair. She felt warm, more in love than ever, chest so full she thought she was ready to burst. 

Jaehwan loved, loved, loved Hongbin. She loved Hongbin and her soft lips, her long neck, her trembling chest, her firm yet small hands, and felt she tasted the sweetest lain down and naked, bathed in the soft orange light of the sundown— chest heaving, cheeks rosy and voice breaking the edges of Jaehwan’s name in her little cries. 

Jaehwan had been the first to do almost everything out of the two, but it was Hongbin, on their last summer party, who pressed a whispered “I love you” to the tender spot behind Jaehwan’s ear. 

The summer was ending. They were just getting started.


End file.
